Pericolo! Morte! Rinnovata!
by Corky Riviera
Summary: The rebirth is here! A new continuity of Pericolo Morte, after the server received years worth of updates. All your favorites are back, from Hevy to Corky the Spy! A parody-style compilation based on Team Fortress 2, riddled with sarcastic humor and the occasional explosive penguin. Intended for slightly older audiences.
1. Chapter 1

**Pericolo! Morte! Rinnovata!**

_Introduction of our Cast and Story_

_ "A tale is about to unfold... a tale of glory, revenge, betrayal, love, hope, and most of all..."_

The Spy paused with his feather pen, looking over the fancy cursive writing on the introduction page. For a moment it sounded like a brilliant introduction... until he realized it would never EVER work in context with the events he was about to describe.

"Rubbish." Corky, Red Team's elite spy, crumpled up the paper and started on a new pad. The sounds of vaccuums and other cleaning appliances could be heard, muted, through his room's walls. "Nobody will read this tripe, it's far too cliche! Hum... I need a different angle... I've got it! I'll think like an idiot!"

Brain shifted down several dozen IQ points, he started again:

_Two years of sitting around and doing absolutely nothing, on a broken, out of date server leaves an author like me wondering where all the time went. So many missed chances to bash people, make lame jokes, and confuse the readers... what have I done! Without skipping another beat, let me introduce the story before you:_

_ Pericolo! Morte! Rinnovata! (That is, translated literally from Italian, Danger! Death! Renewed!) tells the adventures of the Red Team in their Fortress, ever fighting against the Bloos in a private server far away. Spectators may watch the events unfold, but never meddle in the gameplay; this almost seems like some sick experiment, but I am probably digging far too deeply._

_ It steps up and over the previous tales, which are a nostalgic, funny read, but are not required to foray into this new set of stories. Nay, a complete newb may pick this up and enjoy, for I will introduce everyone important myself. Behold, the cast roll! -_

**Redd McGree - **The innovative Engineer. Married to his lovely wife **Betty**, he maintains his own farming business while also inventing on the side. Further duties include giving out advice, repairing everything, and occasionally hosting the odd hoedown in the Red base. Contrary to popular belief, he is not the reason the team is named Red, and he wasn't named for the team either. It's just a strange coincidence, one of which he can spend hours talking about the metaphorical meaning of. It's best not to ask.

**'Corky' Riviera - **The spy by any other name. Dressed to the ninesies, speaking French, and constantly smoking, he's proud of his ability to out-think nearly anyone on either team. But this man holds a deep secret, and apparently some kind of attachment to the team Soldier... what could be hidden under that pinstripe suit? Also, appropriately, the author of these tales...

**Hevy Heavy - **We're not really sure WHAT his name is, but he signs it in all capital letters as 'HEVY'. He is the towering Heavy Weapons Guy with a marshmallow core, who believes he runs the team and he's likely right since nobody would want to argue with his fists. He has an obsession with things he finds 'tiny' and loves his doctor more than anyone else on the team. Occasionally his mother visits and bosses the team around. A swell guy in general, but has the brains of a cabbage.

**Derek Turmoil - **The hot-headed Soldier who is fond of prattling on, and seems to believe he's stuck in the Great Weasel War of the 1990's... whatever that happens to be. He's stricken with the delusion he's the commander of the group and doles out orders and battle plans that rarely are followed through, and also secretly maintains a group of highly-trained War Kittens in the Red base's basement. The only person who can talk him out of his wild ideas is Corky, for whatever reason.

**Greg Johnson - **Paranoid, caffiene-addicted Scout. He used to deliver pizza, until he ran headfirst into a taxi cab. He was 'enrolled' by his family into Red Team as they mistakeningly believe it to be some kind of baseball camp - now he's the abuse sponge. Everytime he says 'Bonk', a penguin is hit by a four-wheeler... and we have scientific proof of it! His respawn time is annoyingly fast...

**Fluffy Carhill - **The bad-tempered Demoman, who is usually referred to as **Big C. **His name IS really Fluffy, but of course if he's drunk he'll take it as an insult... like he'll take most anything you tell him. If he's not drunk, he's often crying, and if he is drunk, he's usually weeping. Infamously, he hates potatoes, and continously lets everyone know about it. Sometimes he gets lonely and searches for love in the wrong places.

**Pyro - **Well, his name is self-explainatory: He's the team Pyro! But what is his real name? What language does he speak? Nobody can understand under that thick mask of his, and he refuses to ever leave his hazmat suit. He posseses the whimsy fantasy of a child, but is in fact married to **Mrs. Fyra Pyro**, and has two children, **Junior and Pyrette.** He's a bit troublemaking but his heart is in the right place.

**Dr. Rolf Katzenstrand - **Herr Doktor if you please! A man of medicine and an incredible amount of paitence, he spends his time patching up the rest of the team and occasionally administering vaccines, or doing unnecessary surgeries to ease boredom. Because of Hevy's adoration and penchant for getting hurt, he's often following the hulking brute around with medigun at full throttle. But sometimes his patience is broken and his rather... loud delusional side comes through with needles.

**Brent Foray - **The Sniper from Down Undah. Living his life at a fairly calm pace, he claims to have been raised in the wild by a family of pygmy Marmosets. Generally he isolates himself in a loft-type room with access to the outdoors, where he sits and waits for someone to wander by. He's never fired a shot and missed... though sometimes he hits an unintended target. His hobbies: Complaining about everyone else and dispense criticisms. He's single, ladies!

**That Voice - **Unlike most servers that now acknowledge a physical entity as The Announcer, because of a modification to the server, The Voice is the all-seeing non-physical controller of the world. However it can somewhat interact with its enviroment, and enjoys bossing the Red Team around. Known to be related to Overwatch and GLaDOS... but does IT take orders itself? Likely not.

**The Bloo Team **is the opposing force in every map the server rotates to. They're too unimportant to us to list, and while we're not sure WHY we're killing them, we're off killing them every day. They keep coming back and usually make life harder, unless a special event is thrown and peace is declared... temporarily.

**And More! **Can you say cameos? Yes, because a few do exist here and there. The most common would be a young test subject who frequently has her chances for freedom rudely interrupted by the Red Team... who else could be waiting out there? There's no way to know for certain!

_ A more mature audience, that is those comfortable with sarcasm, tongue-in-cheek humor, and adult language, would be advised for this story. But with anything on the interwebs, some little kiddie will find this, read this, then complain to their mother. If this does in fact come to pass, the author has no responsibility for the fact you don't know how to watch your own children, and you may want to make sure they're not also favoriting porn sites. Just a hint._

_ So with that, may I, Corky Riviera, announce the official re-opening of the Pericolo! Morte! server, now with updates and sparkles!_

"That will appease the masses." Corky nodded firmly, letting the ink on the paper dry before feeding it into a fax machine and sending it away, to mysteriously appear in print far away in the land of terrible fanfictions. The spy rose and stepped out of his office, calling the others to attention. "After we are done cleaning this place up, we will officially reopen to spectators, and celebrate the grand new opening of our server!"

Everyone on the team paused and cheered loudly, offering up comments like 'Very good!' and 'Will there be cake?'. But before they could celebrate, they had to finish cleaning that six feet of dust that had collected over the years. So off they went, scrubbing and vaccuuming like angry Norse gods.


	2. Mission I: Grand Reopening Party

**Pericolo! Morte! Rinnovata!**

_Mission I: Grand Reopening Party_

Finally, it was time. The great grand reopening of the Pericolo! Morte! server. After the team had busily scrubbed the base from top to bottom and had a day to rest for their efforts, everyone was up early with anticipation and trying to settle back into their routines from so long ago. As usual, Redd and Pyro arrived from their respective homes OUTSIDE the Fortress, both carrying large loads of homemade food and bringing their loved ones with. A party was due, a temporary cease-fire, to celebrate with the Bloo team about the server's reopening! The Spectator slots were likely filled with spam bots, but that never dampened the cheer of the moment.

"What did I _do _last night?" The Voice slurred drowsily. Because it was physically attached to the server and what people were doing, it was taking a long time to catch up with the idea nobody had been around for years. "Someone make me some coffee, black as night... oh bloody..."

"Mon petit chou, do not fret!" Corky obliged, running the coffee machine and pouring out the delicious nectar into a mug, holding it out at the air. "You'll soon be back to normal. Your coffee, madame?"

"Brilliant." The mug suddenly left Corky's hand and tilted back, the coffee vanishing into nothing. "WOW, this could wake the dead. What in the world is going on around here? Aren't you all suppose to be going to war?"

"Big celebration time!" Hevy cheered, already set with a party hat tied to his giant empty head. "With food and Doktor and team and everyone! Been gone so long, you know," He scratched the side of his face, "Wonder what happened..."

"I'll tell yoos what happened: Someone forgot ta pay the server hostin'. I wasn't even aware that was a problem until it happened. Feels bonzer ta be back from purgatory, though, that place is borin' and the tucker is terrible." Brent was more focused on making sure his beloved rifle was in working order, cleaning it there in the break room and sitting at his own table. "But I'll admit I'll miss the quiet. Back ta the old routine of all of yoos screamin' your damned heads off for nah reason."

"Mmmfmf!" Pyro put his big stack of home-prepared potluck dishes on a counter, before turning to his little family. Mrs. Pyro was trying to keep the kids from destroying the place, which was easier said than done. Talking to them himself... or so it seemed... he made a lot of wild gestures in the air, before all of them cheered in that muffled way. The two adults then released the children to do what they wanted until the party, who were probably going to try to utterly destroy the Fortress.

"Brent, don't go rainin' on everyone's parade." Redd sat down his own helping of packaged dishes, before tossing an arm around his realistic-modeled wife. Betty was always out of place in these areas, but neither of them minded. True love surpassed games, after all! "Besides, I know you like a BBQ just as much as the next carnivore! Y'can't be TOO upset about that!" Betty nodded in agreement.

Just then, Big C ran in screaming, the last to wake up. "Help! Help! Ah can see straecht! Och mah god, Ah hink aam sober! E'en waur, Ah hink aam completely it ay booze!" The Demoman ran around in circles until the Doktor slapped him hard enough to make Big C fall over. Face against the floor, he blubbered, "If Ah dornt gie blooter'd, i'll min' mah mom. Ack, mah mom! She thinks aam a fashion designer, nae a cyclaps!"

"Administering emergency alcohol!" Dr. Katzenstrand pulled out an IV filled with the heaviest scotch known to man, and quickly hooked Big C up to it. The large, sober man sighed in relief, as did the Doktor. "Vell dat ought to keep him quiet for de remainder of de day."

"Great, so he's back to being useless." Greg chomped on a pop tart, looking jittery and sour as usual. "Why do we even keep him around if all he does is drink and throw up all the time? He's going to ruin the party with his sobbing about potatoes." The scout scoffed when Big C immediately started wailing over the fact he hated 'tatties'.

"Shut up!" Hevy threw his fist at Greg's head, causing it to fly off instantly, the rest of his body shortly falling off the seat and onto the floor before he respawned.

"They don't make Scouts like they used to!" Derek chimed up from his own coffee mug, which had a picture of a cat weilding a machine gun on it and the words, 'Eat this, Mondays!' "No siree. Back in my day, when you got yourself a scout, they lasted for at least a whole week! Now they make them out of cardboard - where HAS the proud manufacturing industry gone? Those damned weasels took them during the war, I say!"

Corky cleared his throat and adjusted his tie, mostly to break Derek's train of thought and prevent him from going on the subject for the rest of the day. "Come on, friends, let us not worry about unhappy things. Today is a celebration, and who knows when we will next have a cease-fire? Let us proceed to set up the picnic!"

Everyone cheered in agreement, then started hauling out the appropriate things to set up.

The nearest open space was set up for all of the coming festivities! Streamers hung from various buildings and posts in various colors, the picnic tables were in nice covers, and several games had been set up. The local waterway had a few floaty-rings in it, where the Pyrokids were busily trying to dunk each other. The food, still covered, was on a great table, along with the plastic-and-paper instruments to serve and eat from - and the drinks were being attended to by Redd's own dispenser to promise they'd have enough to last the entire evening.

"Good lord." The Voice complained, "This is so stereotypical I could crawl into a hole and die. This better end in a bloodbath."

"Ssh." Corky crossed his arms, letting everyone else do the hard work while leaning against a wall. "The Bloos will be here shortly. I highly suggest you try to relax, madame. After this, we'll be back to the daily grind."

"Much to your apparent chagrin I see," she responded, "More so than before. What's getting to YOU about this?"

"Something was keeping that server connection online despite the years of disuse and lack of monetary involvement. It makes me wonder what it was being held online for, and by whom. I didn't even realize what it was when I first sapped it," Corky blew a smoke ring into the air idly, "But now all of a sudden we're all aware of a 'server' existing in the first place. It strikes me as some kind of... I don't know. Simulated enviroment, like all of that before was just a test."

"You're thinking too hard about a parody." That Voice snickered.

"I may very well be, but I cannot help my mind's wandering." Corky glanced over as soon as the Bloo Team arrived. "Ah! Bonjour, our friends, welcome to the party! Food on the obvious table, and then we can begin."

The Bloo Team all offered their own greetings and helped to populate the food table. Now that everyone had arrived, Corky called everyone to attention with a few loud claps, and then spoke to all of them. "This is a special celebration, after several years of silence... Our grand re-opening of the server! From today onward, may both sides engage in the spirit of progress and determination, plus extreme resentment of each other... but for now, put that aside and feast together as allies! Let us also hope our server never again runs out of funding!" Corky nodded when everyone applauded. "If anyone has anything they'd like to say before the fun begins, let them do so now."

"Mmmfmfff!" Pyro jumped up and down a bit, before going on in his excited way. Everyone stared, pretending to understand what was going on, uncomfortably glancing among the others. Bloo's Pyro applauded several times during... whatever was going on... until Red Pyro finally stopped speaking. Abruptly everyone started clapping to prevent hurt feelings.

"Yes, that was... that was wonderful." Corky coughed.

"Now I am very very hungry!" Hevy bellowed, "Can we eat?!"

With Corky's nod of approval, everyone immediately attacked the food table. Both Corky and the opposing Spy sat on the side commenting together on the lack of hygeine on the sudden feeding frenzy, rather than joining in. If there hadn't been a dispenser placed behind the table, there would have rapidly been nothing left! By the time everyone else had a plate, both of the spies looked over the offerings... sneered... then flipped out new cigarettes to suck on rather than feed themselves.

"Mmm!" Greg stuffed his face as fast as he could, having grabbed a portion of pretty much everything. "Wow, this one dish... I think Brent made it... it's delicious! Dude, what is in this stuff?" Greg looked over while continuing to shovel it in.

"Pork brains 'n scrambled eggs. Me favorite, like Mum used to make." The man nodded a bit. This promptly caused Greg to stop what he was doing, gag, then run off to throw up somewhere. "Bah! Kid doesn't know bonzer tucker when it's right in front of him. Guess if he's not goin' ta eat the rest..."

While that was going on, Hevy was looking over at the Pyro family with their own food. He was struck with an odd curiosity - if they never removed their masks, how in the world did they eat? But as he looked over, the family looked back and never touched a thing. "Why not enjoying picnic?"

"Mmmfmfmmf." They all responded.

"I think dey find your staring rude." Doktor commented.

"Oh no!" Hevy covered his eyes, "Sorry, Pyros!" But the next time he snuck a glance he was surprised to find all of their plates were cleaned, along with their drinks. Dumbstruck, he looked between them and his Doktor. "What..."

"Hm?" Dr. K looked over himself and looked stunned as well. "... I don't know."

"Pyros are mystery creatures." Hevy slowly nodded, accepting that rather than tax his brain. "Let us go play fun games!" He grabbed Dr. K over one shoulder and marched off with him, ignoring the fact the man was in the middle of eating.

"Ahh...!" A mysterious voice purred in a room bedecked in security monitors. Every angle of the Fortress and both bases were covered constantly, showing what each individual was up to. "It looks like everything is running smoothly now. Those updates went through nicely too, though it still seems like the server is isolated. Perfect!" The shrill voice chuckled. "GUS! Where are you?"

A small round robot scuttled over from hauling around large control panels and plugging them back into the walls. GUS (Generic Underappreciated Servicebot) saluted the shadowed figure, saluting. There wasn't much to him, save for a giant eye-like 'body' and arms and legs made for heavy lifting. "Here, miss."

"As soon as the hour strikes midnight I want you to turn on ALL of the mods, especially the map rotator!"

"Yes'm." GUS put an arm down. "I'll activate Operation Toybox at exactly midnight and not a second later. Praise for GUS?"

"Only if the plan succeeds...! Then we shall see if you deserve praise. Hmhmhm." The dark figure tapped her hands together in a very cliche, evil-scientist sort of way. "This is going to be so much fun."

Things went pretty well during the game-playing portion of the party, though the limbo stick didn't last long after it ticked off Pyro. Pin-the-tail-on-the-wooden-cow was a big hit, especially when someone stuck it on Greg's ass instead. Why, it was if there never was any reason to fight in the first place! But by now, Brent had made himself scarce and was busily trying to arrange his outdoor-exposure loft. After all, with so much time passing and the old furniture being too weathered, it all had to be replaced.

"Mgh. This won't do at all... all me handmade stuff is completely ruined. I'll be at this for a week or more... at least nobody flamin fenced up the windows." Brent grumbled, before looking down over the party and surrounding areas with his sniper scope. "Don't know how anyone tinnie find all this noise 'fun'. Now let's see... wouldn't be right ta pop any heads durin' a cease-fire, but nobody said I couldn't make someone cry."

His gaze focused on Big C, who finally had a bottle of precious brew to suckle on. About to tip it to his lips, the glass exploded, sending alcohol everywhere. With a shriek, he suddenly started trying to lap it up off the dirt. "Nae! Nae th' brew! Anythin' but th' brew! Whit ungodly monster woods dae thes tae perfectly guid booze? Baaah!" Spitting out dirt and rocks, the feeling of dispair quickly turned into one of rage. "Th' only bodie fool enaw tae dae somethin' loch thes is 'at bludy demoman oan th' Bloo team! He's aye bin it efter mah booze!"

Big C hurried over to Pyro, who was taking a moment with his kids. "Guid day, ye! Can Ah borraw an axe? Ah tryst yoo'll gie it back in th' morn." Soon as Big C put his hands out, Pyro handed over the axe in good faith. "Cheers, mukker! Yoo're aye dependable, except when yoo're nae! Hawhaw!" Then the Demoman snuck off, finding the opposing Bloo man attached to a keg.

"Sweet nectar av de 'eavens, flow into me bloodstream! Oi canny stan' bein' sober!" Bloo Demoman cried aloud. As soon as he saw Big C, he waved, "'Owaya, mucker! You're lookin' a bit on de vexed side, can oi 'elp yer wi'-"

"Ye gantin duck-sucker! messin' wi' anither man's kergo! Tak' thes, reit atween th' yak sockets!" WHACK! Axe firly buried in the Bloo Demo's skull, Big C stole the now deadman's keg and took off cheering. "Victory fur Scootlund!"

"Hm?" The Voice paused for a moment, then suddenly announced loudly to everyone, "Bloo Team has lost a member. Murder! Finally, something INTERESTING has happened!"

The two sides gasped loudly... and promptly started accusing one another for what happened without even bothering to investigate. Tempers flared like wildfires, and weapons were readily brandished to show neither side was going to back down. Quickly, Mrs. Pyro escorted her kids, and Betty, back into the Red Base just as the two teams had at each other. Body parts and blood were soon flying all over the place, along with the picnic setting being torn to absolute pieces. The Voice cackled cheerfully over the din and started issuing her usual orders of attack!

The next morning, everyone woke up in the Doktor's office, with tremendous amounts of bandages all over them to keep their blood from leaking out entirely. The only three uninjured members, consisting of Corky, Brent and Dr. Katzenstrand himself, looked over the others with a bit of a sigh.

"Well, it was about what I expected." Corky reached for a cigarette, only to be slapped by the Doktor... damn his no-smoking rules! The spy grumbled bitterly and shoved his hands into his pockets instead. "I suppose that means the party was a great success."

"Ja, and I feel more alive dan ever!" The Doctor pulled out his collection of needles. "It's been a long time, my friends. You all need your updated healf shots!" The collective screams of the bed-ridden patients only got louder as sharp instruments were jabbed into their veins. "Stop squirming and it might go quicker!"

"Heh. Definitely a success. Well, here's ta the upcomin' bloodshed, eh, Corky? Try not ta get it on your suit." Brent patted the man on the shoulder, the spy only returning a bit of a sneer. "If yoos need me, don't come knockin'! "

Corky rolled his eyes, stepping out and putting on his cat ears. "At least there's one advantage to the Bloo team coming back: Pampering." With a smirk and a coy 'meow', he strutted off to enjoy the spoiling and attention only a completely hoodwinked Bloo Team could give.


End file.
